


Godforsaken (Kings AU)

by SimplySyra



Series: Blood on Gold Kings [26]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunters, Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Mad King Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3156755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplySyra/pseuds/SimplySyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The darkness behind our eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Godforsaken (Kings AU)

He does not sleep. He cannot close his eyes for they brim with stars and moons, galaxies spinning out of the endless rings of his irises and spilling like teardrops onto his cheeks. He exhales the seas and the storms, footfalls pushing up the pale peaks of mountains and driving canyons into the earth.

He does not sleep, but still the sun sinks and the clouds crawl out and darkness stifles his creation.

And here in the soundless, timeless space before dawn when the night is deepest and the sky but a memory, retribution crawls out from the glistening throat of the dark, black blade muttering with the slow imploding madness of a dying star.

He is the silence between heartbeats, the shadow clinging to the pause between each breath. The fearful expectation that one day the next breath will not come. He is the Maker’s first promise. His only promise.

The promise that the rain will stop and the sky will shrivel and the darkness will grind the world to dust. 

And his promise whispers in a voice like the ruthless hunger that lurks in empty rooms and haunts the cracks of crumbling gravestones.

"Let me turn you inside out," he says. "Let me show them the darkness you let grow behind their eyes when night falls and sleep steals away all sight."

And his scars like stars burn bright with dread. His chest the sundered sky upon which his wound like a rogue dark planet blazes brutal and empty.

For the absolute cold that billows beneath that cracked crown with its rim of blood burns with a devastation even deeper than fire can know. And it shows him the waking nightmare that will become his legacy.

Fields of bones that bloom with gardens of blood. Ivory branches bearing bodies like fruit to be plucked by the claws of the ravens. Centuries of ceaseless, senseless butchery laid out in rows of corpses for him to count. 

The Maker resists. “This is your legacy, not mine,” he says.

"No," sighs the darkness. "You created this. You bade your children turn against each other. You bade them die and die and die…"

And the Maker, heavy-eyed, turns his face up into the nighttime air, eyes glistening with the cold of distant untold skies. Out there behind the veil of clouds spin moons and stars endlessly birthed and endlessly blown out in turn.

"No skies, no stars, no sun," murmurs the Mad King. "Just you and me. And then, just me. Me and the memory of you. And then even that will one day fade."


End file.
